Have Some Candy
by Dixie Darlin
Summary: Real World AU. How I, Dixie Darlin, spent my Valentine's Day getting blackmailed by a certain racer into chauffeuring him around town buying chocolate candy. Shameless author insert, sue me.


_Okay, I have no idea where this came from. I was trying the last few days to think of some cutesy Valentine's Day one-shot but just couldn't summon anything to my mind. So I decided to go for the not so cute approach and just have it be total chaos. _

* * *

**Have Some Candy**

Most single people don't celebrate Valentine's Day; in fact, most of us wouldn't even know about it except for the blatant advertisements and all the couples we're friends with showing off their mushiness via social media sites.

As for me, I've never had a decent Valentine's Day. No cards, teddy bears, flowers, nothing. Not even when I _did _have a boyfriend. Tells how well I pick them, huh? But this year, instead of a boyfriend, I happen to have an annoying self-centered houseguest that also happens to be a chocoholic.

Ever since I began writing fanfiction about my favorite "Wreck-It Ralph" character, Turbo, he somehow managed to invade my personal home life. I have no idea how he got here but we'll just chalk it up the magic of Disney.

This particular morning, I was sleeping in and having lovely dreams about getting pampered on a secluded beach when the vibrations resulting from someone kicking my bed woke me up. Naturally, I was not happy. I turned over and peered through my near-sighted eyes, rolling them upwards when I spotted the familiar pair of glowing yellow orbs belonging to my guest.

"How many times have I told you not to come in my room?" I attempted to growl, but since I was still half-asleep it came out as just embarrassingly raspy.

The smart-aleck reply was, "It's the only way to get to the bathroom, remember? Besides, it's ten o'clock in the morning."

I groaned and threw the covers back over my face. "Too early!"

The brat actually pulled them back down, much to my shock. "I'm hungry!"

I glared at him and repeated the action of covering my face. "Walk to McDonald's, it's just down the road! I'll even give you cash if you'll just go away!"

I heard Turbo mutter something unintelligible under his breath. Probably something about how greasy the food was. I never thought I would hear the end of _that_ one, when I first took him there.

"Okay, look, I'll level with you," I heard him say in an strangely diplomatic tone. "I've got a hankering for some chocolate and you have _none_ in here, not even a bite."

I rolled my eyes under the covers so he couldn't see me. "So?"

"So, it's Valentine's Day."

My eyes widened in panic and I flung the covers back enough to show my face. "Let's get one thing straight here: only _couples_ do the valentine thing. Which we are most definitely _not_."

Even in the dark and with my slightly poor vision I could see the fuzzy outline of a crooked grin.

"I never said we _were_," he replied slyly. "And even if we were, you'd be the worst girlfriend ever for making me sleep on the couch without the good fluffy pillows."

"Yeah, well you're no prize either using up all the hot water and whining about not having enough racing games to play on the Wii."

We glared at each other for a while, not an uncommon occurrence around here. As usual, I won. Turbo huffed and crossed his arms.

"All right, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way," he began. "It's a holiday where the stores are filled with special chocolates for sale and you're going to drive me to every one of them and buy me the whole lot."

I stared at him in disbelief for maybe a second before I began to laugh. He must not have been amused by my reaction because he said,

"I'm being serious."

"No, you're _insane_," I corrected him through my chuckling. "If you think I'm going to chauffeur you around and blow my hard-earned money buying you chocolate hearts, you're crazier than I ever dreamed."

"Trust me, it'll be a lot easier if you just do it."

"Trust _me_, it'll never happen."

"Do you want to hear the hard way?" he asked me, saying it enthusiastically as if he really wanted me to say "yes".

"No."

"Too bad. The hard way is that if you don't do it, I'll use your social security number and bank account numbers to steal your identity and wreck havoc across the country."

Once again, I found myself staring at him in disbelief. It was hard to read his expression without my glasses or contact lenses nearby to put on, so I wasn't sure if he was being serious or just showing off his weird sense of humor. Finally, I blew a raspberry and laughed some more.

"Oh whatever, you don't know any of those," I said surely.

When he recited the numbers, it was enough to make me sit up in bed and give him a jaw drop.

"How did you-?"

"I'm Turbo, the greatest racer _and _con in history," he reminded me with an air of pride. "Don't forget about my years of code hacking experience."

He paused a beat before adding, "Besides, you're not very careful keeping it all hidden. You should really change your passwords more often."

My face fell into a scowl and I threw a pillow at him hard enough to knock him back a couple steps. "Fine, you win but I hope you get a sick stomach from eating it all."

* * *

I purposely took over an hour to get ready. Can't go out in public without looking pretty, right? Turbo naturally griped at me to hurry up, like any other typical man would do, but I was mad. Very mad. He was going to pay for this, how I did not know. He had never succumbed to using blackmail on me before to get his way, this was new territory.

And to think he's my favorite Disney character...er, _villain_ I should say. He was definitely living up to that part of his description.

Before we left, I fed and watered my cat, who surprisingly _likes_ the little gray-skinned visitor from another dimension. I suppose it's because they both have glow-in-the-dark eyes and do nothing but sleep all day except when they want to annoy me.

"Can I drive?" Turbo asked hopefully, a large grin on his face. He asked every time we went somewhere.

"No way, you'd go over the speed limit and either kill us, maim us, total my car, or at the very least get a ticket," I replied bluntly as I took out my remote control button and unlocked my sedan. "Not to mention, you don't have a license."

His face fell and he begrudgingly climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door and buckling up. Then he slumped down and pouted, staring ahead of him with a frozen glare on his face.

"I _could_ have a license if you'd take me," he argued after I got in and cranked the car up.

"Yeah, and the next thing I know, you'd be asking me to buy you a car," I countered, backing up and leaving the apartment building.

The smart-aleck in me rose up and I said, "Since you have my bank account numbers, why don't you just steal money from me to get a car yourself and just take off into the wild blue yonder? You don't have to stick around here."

He didn't have anything to say to that. He silently reached one of his fingers out to turn the radio on. Thankfully, I had trained him to like the same kind of music that I liked so he kept it on one of my favorite stations.

"All right, where to, _King Candy?_" I asked as we hit the red light at the intersection at the end of the street, saying the name of his old alias mockingly. Given the situation, I felt it fit him.

I felt him shooting daggers at me but I ignored it. Instead of dignifying me with an answer, he pointed his arm out to Wal-Mart, which was just in view down the street. I beat my head against the steering wheel a couple of times while the light was still red. I hated going in there, especially this time of day.

* * *

I, as always, got stuck pushing the buggy, the one thing with wheels that Turbo refused to drive. In my sour mood, I had grabbed the first one I came across and _of course_ it was the one with that one squeaky wheel. I cringed with every step I took, just knowing that my buggy was the only one in the whole store that was squealing and that everyone who passed by knew that it was my fault they had to listen to it.

Turbo was like an impatient child but all I did was lean over the buggy handle to rest on my forearms and lazily push it through the crowd of people in my way. I much preferred to go at six or seven in the morning when no one was around. I hated crowds and the looks we were getting was making me nauseous. I'm not sure if we were getting looked at because of my faulty buggy or because Turbo looked so oddly out of place amongst the rest of us, like an alien. This wasn't his first trip here, but even the usual greeters and cashiers still gave him odd looks when they saw him each time.

His already big eyes only got bigger once we hit the holiday candy aisle. Within seconds, he transformed into a completely different person, happy and giddy as a kid on Christmas Day. I, on the other hand, was as angry as a kid that didn't get all the toys he wanted on Christmas Day. I tried to think happy thoughts and take my mind to a better place as bags upon bags of Valentine chocolate was thrown carelessly into the buggy. I'm pretty sure I bared my teeth at some point when I decided to look over and see a few empty spots on the shelves that were not there minutes ago.

"They've even got extra bags of those Lindor truffle things!" he said excitedly to me, dumping all the available bags into a heap with the rest of the pile.

Those and Hershey's Kisses were my favorites but I wasn't in a mood to care. I think it might have hurt his feelings that I wasn't enjoying myself, but what did he expect after blackmailing me and then burning through my cash like this?

Thankfully, he was picky even about his chocolate so he didn't empty the store's entire inventory. By the time we reached the end of the aisle, I had to really work my back and leg muscles to push the stupid buggy filled to the brink with junk to the checkout line. I'm fairly sure I was pouring sweat and was tempted to rip my jacket off to relieve some of the heat.

I guess I wasn't going fast enough for his majesty because he ended up grabbing the foot of the buggy and pulling it along while I pushed. I had to admit, I was grateful for the help but at the same time, this was his fault I was here in the first place so I just stayed mad. I glanced around at other shoppers and couldn't help but notice seeing some lone men with either bouquets of roses, giant teddy bears, or some other sentimental Valentine gift. Some couples that looked my age and younger were being a little too mushy in public as they waited their turn to check out.

I hmph'd quietly at them but of course you-know-who heard me.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I hate this holiday."

"Why, there's chocolate all over the place!" he pointed out, waving his hands over our stash as if I needed to be shown it again. "Besides, you like chocolate too. And teddy bears and flowers and hearts and all that other sappy stuff that goes along with it."

I cut my eyes at him and the look on my face must have been scary because he piped down and even shrank back a little bit.

"I hate it because the first year in a long time that I actually spend it with a guy, it's with a self-centered, homeless, jobless jerk who has nothing better to do but ask me to do petty favors for him all the time and in return forces me to spend what is possibly a thousand dollars worth of chocolates on _himself."_

That certainly shut him up...for a second. Then he went back to using that smug expression of his that he wears all too well and retorted,

"You know, you could always throw me out. Nothing's making you keep me around."

Honestly, as much as he irritates me, I would feel bad throwing him out. I'd be too worried that he'd get lost, killed, thrown in prison, yadda yadda. No, somehow it had become my duty to watch over this displaced movie character and I supposed I had to deal with the consequences of it. Anyone else would have already killed him, I'm sure of it, and I wouldn't wish that on anybody.

I _did _wish I was one of those "Extreme Couponing" people though.

When the cashier told me the price, I felt my brain go numb from shock. It took everything I had to keep from turning around and unleashing fury on my ungrateful houseguest, but then I thought there was really no point. It was either _this_ or have him run off with _all_ my money. Yes, the thought to call the cops crossed my mind but they probably would have laughed at the idea of a supposedly fictional character existing in our world too much to take this seriously.

I sat in the driver's seat with the heat on while the resident chocoholic threw the purchases in the trunk. I thought about stranding him there but, again, I would have felt guilty eventually despite my anger. To be honest, my feelings were rather hurt by this whole scenario. I mean, I know we argue a good bit and irritate each other, but he'd been here about three months and I had thought perhaps we were at least...well not _friends_, per se, but whatever a step below that is.

"Next store!" Turbo directed me a little bit too chipperly, pointing towards the highway. He had a bag of mini chocolate hearts with him and was steadily unwrapping them one by one to pop in his mouth.

My eyes bugged out and I snapped my head towards him. "What do you mean, _next store_?"

"Did I not say that we were going to _all_ the stores?" he replied cooly, fiddling with the adjustor thingy on the side of the chair to lean the seat back more comfortably.

My surprised look transformed into one of evil. "Whoa, back up. I am _not_ driving you to every single store in the city."

"Relax, I just meant on this particular street."

"This is a _major highway_," I argued, clenching the steering wheel so tight my hands turned white. "It goes on for _miles_ and _miles_."

He smirked and I resisted the urge to slap him. "Then I suggest you get to driving."

He ended the conversation by pointedly popping another chocolate in his mouth.

I came this close to abandoning the car and throwing my debit card at him, since let's face it: whether or not I was physically there, he was going to do this anyway. Not to mention, what was to stop him from wiping my accounts clean and stealing my identity after this was all said and done? Geez, I thought perhaps we had made _some_ progress at cleaning up his villain act but apparently I'm a bad guardian.

Or maybe he's just nonredeemable.

The sooner I got this over with, the better. I shifted into reverse and left the parking lot, once again hitting the highway.

"Have some candy?" Turbo asked, saying his alter ego's catchphrase in the form of a humorous question and offering one of the little hearts to me.

I kept my eyes on the road. "Don't mock me."

"Hey, I was being nice."

"_That's_ a laugh."

He didn't say anything but I heard him sigh and unwrap it for himself. I felt a little bad for some reason but I had to remind myself that I was going to be broke by the end of the day because of him, so why should I bother being nice?

Worst. Valentine's Day. Ever.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent on visiting literally every store including gas stations and filling up bags, baskets, and buggies full of Valentine chocolate. This would be enough to last Turbo a lifetime, unless he gorged of course. With every swipe of my card, I could almost physically _feel _the money wasting away in the bank vault. I could hardly wait to check how much I had left over.

Scratch that, I really didn't want to know. I might end up in a straight jacket.

By the time we hit the last store, I was drained. When I parked the overflowing buggy at the checkout lane, the little teenager that was the cashier perked her eyes up and said,

"Aw, that's so sweet of your boyfriend to buy you all that!"

I shot her a death glare and then gave a similar one to Mr. Blackmail, who had attempted to quickly turn his back to me before I caught the smirk. I felt like clobbering him with a giant jawbreaker. However, I didn't feel like denying the claim (this happened more often than you might think) due to physical and emotional exhaustion so I just wordlessly handed her the card. She looked confused as to why I was the one buying all this stuff, which had been most everyone else's reactions as well, but she thankfully didn't say anything.

We _finally_ started the trip back home, my car overflowing with bags of chocolate. It was dark out by now, ten o'clock pm. We spent exactly twelve hours buying him his stupid chocolate. Un-freakin-believable. Turbo was still smirking to himself in the passenger seat and I was getting mad again.

"If you're smart, you'd wipe that smile off your face," I suggested bitterly.

"Sorry, it's just funny that you didn't correct that cashier," he replied with a lilt of cockiness in his voice.

I slammed on the brakes (no one was behind me) and I grabbed him by the collar of his suit, jerking him over close to my face so he could look directly into my angry eyes.

"If you're trying to be cutesy with me, you have a very twisted way of going about it," I said, shaking him a little bit. "This is not a good day to play with me, so don't even try."

I threw him back over in his seat and I huffed before continuing the drive. I must have scared him because he didn't say anything else the entire way home. He did turn on the radio which helped with the awkward silence in the car.

I was still fuming when we got back to my apartment and I left him there by himself to unload his goodies while I stormed inside. I park close enough to where all I have to do is stick my head out the window to lock/unlock the car so I just kept it unlocked for him until whenever he got done.

Immediately upon throwing my purse and jacket on the bed, I hit the shower. My muscles were tired and my brain hurt. I was too tired to be mad anymore, I was starting to be depressed actually. I couldn't believe that little punk would pull a stunt like this. My feelings were more hurt than I thought they'd be and I wound up staying in the shower longer than I intended. I slipped into my lounge wear and plush houserobe and stepped out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.

When I saw the plastic shopping bags piled up on my bed, I became infuriated all over again. I could hear Turbo playing some kind of racing game on the television in my little living area and I swung my bedroom door open and stomped over to the couch.

"My bed does not double as a pantry!" I holler at him, jabbing an angry finger towards the direction of the bed.

He turned to look at me when he heard me screaming and I saw his little car on the game crash off the side of the road, making him lose. Good.

That's when he surprised me.

He waved a hand dismissively at me and said, "Oh, those are yours."

I relaxed my arms to my side and I stared at him silently for a few seconds.

"Mine?"

"Yeah, I rearranged a bit and threw those truffle things and some Hershey stuff in separate bags for you," he explained, going back to punching some buttons on the game controller to go back to the main menu. "Those _are_ still your favorites, aren't they?"

I was...perplexed.

"Yeah," I answered slowly, feeling awkward. "Um...why did-"

"Thanks for driving me around all day," he said in a surprisingly nice voice. "I know I'm not easy to put up with. I suppose I owed you for stealing that birthday cake your sister made for you a couple weeks ago, so I gave you your own chocolate stash."

It had been a chocolate cake...go figure. "Um...thanks?"

"By the way, that wasn't really your money you were spending," he interrupted, popping another piece of candy in his mouth while his new game was loading. "You know those sweepstakes things you can enter to win cash prizes? Well, I sort of won a million dollars, but of course after taxes it wasn't that much."

I found myself gawking. "A million dollars?"

"Yeah, anyway, so I needed a bank account to put it in, so I used yours. You have a bad habit of not checking that very often so you didn't notice. Also, I was only kidding about stealing your identity and all that, but you weren't really cooperating."

This new information was a bit too much for me to take in standing up so I grabbed a stool from the little bar area behind the couch and sat down.

"A million dollars?" I repeated again, still in shock. "And you made me waste it on _chocolate_?"

"Well, it's technically _my _money," he defended himself. "I figure it would last me a while. I was going to buy a car with the rest of it, _but_."

He paused to turn around and look at me with his glowing eyes. "_Someone_ won't take me to go get a driver's license so I can actually drive the thing."

I began to process this slowly but surely. "You know, you could have just asked me instead of going through this hare-brained scheme."

He shrugged and turned back around to his game. "I_ did_ ask. You said _no_."

True, he had a point. I started feeling bad about being mean all day. I still thought this was a weird way of him going about this, but then again he's a pretty strange guy.

"I'm fairly certain you have to be actually exist to get one though," I thought out loud. "No offense, you're not exactly...well..._real_."

"Yeah, I am," he replied, sounding a little insulted. "I have official documentation from Disney. I keep it in my pocket."

You have got to be kidding me. I sat in silence and thought this over for a few minutes then sighed.

"You know, you don't need me to drive you there. You could easily take the bus."

He paused the game for a second and turned around again. "Yeah, but you're the only friend I have here. I don't know much about how the real world works and you're the only person I have to ask."

Friend? He thinks of me as a friend? This was new...and a little weird. I coughed to the side to break the awkward mood.

"Okay, fine, I'll take you."

He grinned widely and his eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure," I shrugged, unable to resist a little smile myself. "Since you're buying your own car, I'd feel pretty cruel not letting you be able to drive it."

"Turbo-tastic!"

He quite literally bounced over the back of the couch and gave me a hug. This was definitely new. I gave him a pat on the back, shifting my eyes uncomfortably at the unusual show of...well not affection...it was just an unusual gesture.

"Okay, you can get off now," I said, pushing him off me.

"Thanks!" he told me, sheer happiness evident in both his voice and face.

"No problem...um, look, I'm going to bed. Turn the volume down on that thing."

So anyway, he surprisingly did as he was told and I had to put all _my_ chocolate in a corner of my room so I wouldn't trip over it when I woke up. I had only been asleep maybe an hour when I felt someone poking me on my shoulder.

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

I rolled over and for the second time today I looked up through my near-sighted eyes (my contacts were out now of course) to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

"What do you want?" I asked in a tired voice.

"We're out of milk."

I stared at him hard. "I just bought a gallon two days ago."

"It's...well, I finished it...this morning." He was acting like he was too scared to say something, but he eventually said, "I don't have anything to wash the chocolate down."

If I wasn't so tired, I would have laughed at the irony. We spend all day buying chocolate and then he doesn't even have milk to go with it. However, I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a while to try and wake up. In light of recent knowledge, I felt like I was being sadistic in not letting the poor guy enjoy his goodies properly. After all, it _was_ his money we'd been blowing all day and he _was_ nice enough to share.

"You better be glad that Wal-Mart is open twenty-four hours," was all I had to say.

I ended up letting him drive for once, much to his extreme pleasure. I was too tired to do anymore today anyway. He even went the speed limit. Somehow I felt that things were going to be a little smoother at home...not too much because that would be a tad weird, but just enough to where he would be more tolerable.

So, in a nutshell, it turned out to not be that bad of a Valentine's Day. I was still single and still had an annoying houseguest, but it ended on a pretty decent note.

I still didn't trust him knowing my private identification numbers, so you know, I don't care how much candy he buys me.

**The End**


End file.
